


Kakoolukyam

by Kira7



Category: Prince of Persia: The Sands of Time (Video Games)
Genre: F/M, Not Beta Read, Set after the end of t2t
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-05
Updated: 2019-05-05
Packaged: 2021-02-27 15:08:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,037
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22159132
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kira7/pseuds/Kira7
Summary: "Prince, there's still something I don't understand. How did you really know my name?"A smile of awareness purses his lips, with a caress he brushes her lock away, and everything returns as in the past, a feeling of familiarity envelops him as he begins to speak."Most people think Time is like a river that flows swiftly and surely in one direction. But I have seen the face of time and can tell you, they are wrong. Time is an ocean in a storm. You may wonder who I am and why I say this. Come, and I shall tell you a tale like none you have ever heard..."And then?
Relationships: Farah/The Prince (Prince of Persia)
Comments: 2
Kudos: 5





	Kakoolukyam

"And that's why I went to her, to warn her of the impending danger, to tell her who the traitor was so she could have arrested him."  
"Did she believe you?," The princess asks, without looking away from those green eyes.  
"I would say yes, the traitor entered the room with the intent to kill me, passing the situation as a rescue, but he confessed on his deathbed."  
Farah, sitting on the floor next to the Prince, for the first time points her eyes to the ground, prey to the thoughts that grip her mind, concerning ancient nightmares that woke her up at night, panting and with eyes full of tears; her expression frowns, while the Prince doesn't allow himself to speak, he remains patient, waiting for a gesture from her, despite the same frenzy, which as a young man had pushed him to kiss her, returns to become overbearing.  
"But what does all this have to do with my name? I am no longer a naive girl of seventeen who still believes in these stories."  
The Prince can't hold back a laugh: how strange, he thinks, even at seventeen she said the same things; this shows that, even if she doesn't remember their meeting in India, she is the same stubborn, combative, selfless and anything but naive princess.  
Farah raises an eyebrow, "What's funny?"  
"Nothing, do you remember my way of saying a few hours ago?"  
"The seven years one?," her curiosity is mixed with a veil of irritation.  
"I was thinking of that."  
The disappointment takes over in the person of the Indian princess, however she tries to not give too much importance to the emotion; the Prince gets up, removes the dust from his pants and offers her a hand to get up, when the woman notices a wound running through his palm.  
"How did you do this?"

_Clinging to a dagger, a male voice was calling her and came to save her life_

The prince instinctively closes his hand and looks away, pondering a few seconds to drive away that memory to look at her again, "I tried to save a person."

_The weapon that supported her could not bear her weight anymore, she began to fall, but one hand grabbed the blade and two green eyes looked at her_

"Does it hurt?"  
The Prince denies with his head, and adds in a serious tone, "I would always do it again."

_The hand started to bleed, she saw in that blurred face the pain of that new wound, in order to save her, but she let go the dagger and listened for the last time her name, shouted by that stranger, and she noticed an outstretched hand who wanted to reach her_

"Do we want to go?"  
Farah is awakened by her thoughts, then nods and automatically follows the Prince; she has no idea why one of those nightmares, which woke her up in the middle of the night years ago, re-emerged, reminding her of the pain and frustration that accompanied her during her quiet cries. She convinced herself that she forgot those moments, along with the state of alert that never left her, in search of those unknown green eyes, repeating the word that her mother had taught her as a child, during those nights she assumed it had a deeper and melancholy meaning.  
"Kakoolukyam," the Princess whispers in such a low voice that she has difficulty hearing.  
"Did you say something?"  
Taken off guard, Farah doesn't answer immediately, rather she thinks for a while, without noticing a glimpse of emotion hidden in Prince's eyes, in anxious expectation.  
"Nothing in particular, it's just something my mother told me when I was a child."  
The Prince smiles knowingly, he has already heard this story, "Maybe will you tell me it one day?"  
The woman laughs of mockery, joins him and takes the freedom to tease him, "I'm not a good storyteller like someone I know."  
"Well, this means that I will have to settle."  
The hands of the two touch, as they descend the stairs, and automatically tighten and interlace their fingers, supporting each other morally for all they have spent.  
"Prince?"  
Being called, the Prince of Persia turns and immediately notices the uncertainty in Farah, something she hadn't shown in recent years, "I know I ask for more than I need, and I don't want to take too much advantage of the hospitality rules, though--"  
"Farah," he interrupts her, before she can finish the request, "You can stay as long as you want, one day or forever, whatever you want will be given to you."  
Her cheeks blush against her will, but it doesn't stop her from thanking him as it suits her position.  
"Thanks for your generosity, Prince."  
"Just don't call me that anymore."  
"Should I call you by name?"  
once they arrive in front of the door that separates them from the party crowd, the Prince leaves her hand to open it, but he thinks about an answer and a smart smile purses his lips.  
"If you like it more, you can call me Kakoolukyam."  
The princess' heart loses a beat, and then accelerates immediately: how does he know?  
She's about to ask him the question, but while the Prince opens the door, the sunlight illuminates the corridor, and Farah can swear she sees a boy of twenty years old, with shorter hair and a piece of blue cloth tied to his arm, but those green eyes attract her more, they call her something, they are the same of that stranger in her dream... Could it be?  
"Shall we go, Farah?"  


_Wait, she says hoping to be able to stop both him and time, I don't know your name yet_

The princess looks back at reality, they exchange a look.  
"It wasn't a simple story. It was all true," she says, sure of what she heard before.  
The prince smiles at her and offers his hand to go out next to him; Farah looks at him, bringing a hand to her hip, while her lips don't hold back a smile, then she accepts the hand and together they go out, illuminated by the sunlight and acclaimed by the Persian people.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading it! ^^
> 
> If you want to scream with me, you can find me on [ **Tumblr** ](https://kira-7.tumblr.com) or [ **Twitter** ](https://mobile.twitter.com/kira7_13) 😄


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